


Tergum In Tempus

by crochetaway



Series: Drabbles and OneShots [48]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Imperius, Imperiused Sex, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-26
Updated: 2017-01-26
Packaged: 2018-09-20 00:23:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9467198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crochetaway/pseuds/crochetaway
Summary: Hermione Granger finds herself in Tom Riddle's head boy dorm room, 50 years back in time. How did she get there? And what will Tom do to keep her there?





	

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Lemonade](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Lemonade) collection. 



> **Prompt:**

Hermione Granger fell hard onto a stone floor. She was lying on her side, her left hip having hit the floor rather hard.  _ What happened?  _ She thought back to the last thing she remembered.

She had been walking by the Head dorms on the way back to Gryffindor tower, she had just found the most fascinating book in the library. She had checked it out and was planning to curl up in her four-poster and read for the rest of the evening. But halfway to the tower she became dizzy, she stopped for a moment in front of the Head dorms, she was rather friendly with the Ravenclaw Head Girl and had thought to knock on the portrait. She didn’t get that far, instead the book in her hands dropped on the ground and flipped open, it’s pages flinging wildly in a wind she couldn’t feel. It felt as if something from inside the book was pulling her toward it, she could almost feel a hand on her ankle and then she had fallen.

She looked up to see a dark haired boy looking at her curiously. It was strange, she seemed to be in his dorm room because the boy was lounging on his bed, in what looked like his pajamas.

“Where did you come from?” he asked politely.

“I - I’m not sure,” she replied, rubbing her forehead. She was feeling less dizzy, but as she looked around, she noticed she had nothing with her except the book and her wand.

“You aren’t sure? You appeared in my room,” he told her, standing from the bed and reaching a hand down to help her off of the floor.

She let him pull her up, but he pulled too hard and she lost her footing, stumbling into him. He caught her upper arms and steadied her.  _ He’s very fit,  _ she thought as her hands rested on his chest. She looked up at him and noticed how dark his eyes were, and how good looking he was. She could feel a blush rising as she quickly stepped back from him.

_ I should not be in a room alone with a strange boy in his pyjamas!  _ She turned to grab the book that had fallen, but the boy had picked it up already. When he turned it over and looked at the cover. He started to laugh.

His laughter was rich and deep, Hermione couldn’t help but to smile at hearing it. There was something about this boy that drew her to him.

“What’s so funny?” she asked. “Do you know the book or something?”

The grin he turned toward her was predatory. “I do ‘know’ this book, Miss - I don’t think I caught your name?” he inquired.

“Hermione Granger, and you are?” she stuck her hand out, he smirked at her and instead of shaking it he brought it to his lips and laid a kiss on the back. Then he turned it over and kissed the palm as well. She shivered at the feel of his lips on her palm. He was very intriguing, Hermione was sure she had never met anyone like him.

“You can call me Tom, Miss Granger,” he murmured.

Hermione had never had anyone kiss her hand, let alone the palm of her hand before. She was getting nervous, she yanked her hand back from him. She no longer felt dizzy, but her head did feel funny, like she couldn’t quite concentrate or think clearly.

“Well, Tom. Er, I think I should be going. I should figure out what happened to land me here, and -” she turned to leave. Before she could grab the door handle, Tom reached past her and laid his hand flat on the door. She could feel his torso at her back, he felt warm.

“I don’t think you will be going anywhere, Miss Granger,” he whispered in her ear. He had flung the book onto his desk and he moved her hair off her shoulder as he lowered his lips to her neck.

“I- what are you doing?” she asked, she thought she should be worried. Instead his lips on her skin felt delicious and sinful. She shook her head to clear those thoughts then turned around and had her wand at his neck. But he just chuckled at her and grabbed her wand from her. Her grip was sweaty from nerves and her wand was easily pulled from her, he tossed that on his desk as well. He backed her into the door behind her, grinning down at her.

“I created that book, so I am very familiar with it,” he told her as he ran his hands down her arms.

She looked up at him, she vacillated between being concerned and enjoying his touch. She placed her palms on his chest in order to push him away.

“You created the book? What does it do?” She started applying pressure to his chest, trying to ignore how hard his chest felt under her hands. But he was quite a bit taller than her, and didn’t move when she pushed at him. In fact, his smirk turned into a grin.

He grabbed her wrists and lifted them above her head, pinning them there with one hand, while the other hand explored her torso. She stopped being concerned for the moment and enjoyed how much larger he was than her and the feelings his hand running along her abdomen was causing.

“It was designed to bring interesting people to me,” he told her as he nuzzled at her neck. She tried to buck her body to get away from him, but he pushed his body into hers, trapping her between him and the door at her back. She could feel her heartbeat pick up as he nibbled at her throat and ear. When he hit the spot where her shoulder met her neck, she couldn’t hold back her moan. The fight went out of her as she enjoyed his ministrations.

“Mmm, like that, do you Miss Granger?” he whispered in her ear, his breath hot and wet making her shiver. Despite her efforts to ignore it, his ministrations were turning her on. She could feel the heat pooling low in her belly, and her knickers were becoming damp.

“Listen, Tom, whoever you are. I should get back, my friends will be looking for me,” she tried wrenching away from him again. He pulled her wrists forward and then slammed them back into the door above her head, grinding them together. She winced at the pain and when he twitched his head back, she could have sworn she saw his eyes flash red for a moment.

“You aren’t going anywhere, Miss Granger,” he emphasized this with a grind of his hips into her belly, she could feel his arousal and her eyes went wide.

“Why?” she asked, trying to hide the tremor in her voice. She couldn’t decide if the tremor was from fear or arousal. That was disconcerting.

“Because the book brought you here. What year is it where you’re from?” he asked her, his other hand had found it’s way inside her blouse and was making gooseflesh prick up along her sides where he was tracing patterns.

“1996,” she whispered, her brow furrowing in confusion.  _ Why would he ask me what year it was? _

His answering grin was rapacious, “It’s 1945.”

“What?! How is that possible?” she started but cut herself off at the sound of his low laugh again.

“What is your last name, Tom?” She was trying to keep her voice level. She really hoped this was not who she thought it was.

“Riddle, my name is Tom Riddle,” he told her and began kissing her neck again.

“Oh, gods,” she groaned. “This cannot be happening, I cannot be stuck in a room with Voldemort.” She was muttering quietly, but since he still had her pinned to the door, he could hear every word.

“How do you know that name?” He released her hands and took a step back from her. His voice had lost its warmth and was absolutely chilly.

“I come from fifty-one years in the future, Tom. You are a menace where I come from. Evil, insane, and disgusting. A monster,” she hissed, her lip curled as she glared and rubbed her aching wrists.

* * *

Tom looked appraisingly at the girl who had appeared in his room. She had just told him she not only came from fifty years in the future, but that she knew of him. And that he had apparently turned into a monster? Tom did not want to be a monster. Yes, he wanted power and prestige, he wanted everyone in Wizarding Britain to know his name and fear it, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be a monster.

“How does it happen? How do I become a monster?” he inquired, taking a seat on his bed and gesturing for her to take a seat at his desk.

“You expect me to tell you how you become a monster?” she asked incredulously.

“Unless you know of a way to jump yourself fifty years in the future, you are stuck here Miss Granger. You seem to know who I am. I’m sure we can come to an arrangement that will be mutually beneficial to both of us,” he told her with a leer. 

He looked her up and down again, she was dressed in school robes, they hadn’t changed much in fifty years, standard skirt, blouse and tie, with the black over robe. He looked closer and saw that she was a Gryffindor. Even better, he was sure he could manipulate a Gryffindor into doing what he wanted. And with the charms he had placed on the book, she’d soon be eating out of his hands.

“What do you mean, I’m not going back? How did you pull me back in time to begin with?” She was shouting at him now, her arms akimbo on her hips, her hair was sparking in her fury. It was a glorious sight. She would be very beneficial to him.

“Have you ever heard of a time turner going forward in time?” His face a mask of calm, he gestured to his chair again, and this time she pulled it out and sat, crossing her arms and her legs. As she crossed her legs he caught a glimpse of her green knickers and grinned.

“Of course not, but it wasn’t a time turner that sent me back here. It was a bloody book,” she grumbled at him.

“I modified the time turner to fit in the spine of the book, with some complicated charms to only send back worthy persons,” he smirked again at how well this was working out. He had never had the book bring him back anyone, when he set it up. But it looks as if it followed all his instructions: woman, beautiful, smart, she seemed to be trying to buck the modified  _ Imperius _ , but Tom wasn’t worried. He could always reapply that if necessary.

“You did what? I have never heard of such a thing! When did you find time to figure that all out?” she asked him, she appeared genuinely curious now.  _ Ah, I’ve got you _ , he thought to himself.

“Sixth year was rather dull, and to be honest, you are the first person the book ever brought back. It was a bit of an experiment. I’m glad it worked.” He was more than glad it worked, this couldn’t be working out better if he planned it. She was from far enough in the future that she could guide him through the next fifty years!

“You experimented on me?!” Her curiosity was gone and replaced with outrage.

“It wasn’t specific to you, Miss Granger. The charms were designed to find the correct qualities in anyone reading the book. Once those qualities were found and assessed, the time turner would activate. I wasn’t even sure when it would bring someone to me, or where. I’m rather glad it brought you to me while I am still at Hogwarts. And someone who knows of me from the future,” he smirked again, thinking about how very valuable she was going to be.

She sighed, seeming to resign herself to the situation, at least for the moment.

“Are you going to tell me the qualities in the charm?” she queried.

“I think not.”

He stood from the bed and walked the two steps to tower over her in the chair at the desk. He leaned down and placed a hand on either side of her on the desk at her back, trapping her within his arms.

“We should get to know each other better, Miss Granger. Hermione,” he husked as he leaned in once again to nuzzle at her neck. He licked from the base of her neck up to her ear, feeling her quake in response. He wanted to get back to the pleasure he had been looking forward to when she first entered the room.

“Not like this we don’t,” she snapped, pushing at his arms. He found that place on her throat that made her moan, and her pushes lessened as she gripped his shoulders. He grabbed her upper arms and lifted so she was out of the chair and on the desk. He kicked the chair out of the way and stepped between her legs before she could think to close them, running his hands down her back. He looked down at her, she was looking up at him with wide, brown eyes. Her pupils were large,  _ a good sign _ , he thought.

Her mouth was open and she darted her tongue out to wet her lips as he looked at them.  _ She protests, but is also aroused.  _ He leaned down and brushed his lips against hers, his hands settling on her hips as he stepped even closer, widening her thighs to accommodate him. The kiss intensified as he swept his tongue along her bottom lip, she whined at the back of her throat and he took advantage and thrust his tongue into her mouth, tasting her fully.

She tasted like peppermint, with a hint of something citrus, and as he recognized that thought, she started kissing him back. Her hands went from gripping his shoulders, to carding through his hair, he preened at the touch and tugged her hips forward to rub against his erection again. She felt so warm, he raised his hands to her shoulders and fumbled with the catch on her robe for a moment before pushing it off, he started on her tie next, loosening it and finally pulling it off. He began unbuttoning her blouse, one slow button at a time, but when she realized what he was doing, she pulled back from him. She was panting now and her cheeks were flushed, her lips swollen with his kisses.

“Don’t think, Hermione, just feel,” he whispered to her, reaching down for the next button on her blouse. She shuddered as his fingers brushed against the swell of her breasts. She reached up and began unbuttoning his own pyjama top, and he smiled to himself. He had won her over if she was undressing him. He followed his fingers with his mouth, planting open mouthed kisses along her chest and the cups of her bra. Her bra was lacy and green, he hoped it matched her knickers. There was something wickedly delicious about this beautiful Gryffindor wearing lacy green underthings.

She got frustrated with his shirt when he moved out of her reach, so she grasped both sides and ripped it open, the last few buttons flew off and she pushed it down his arms. He pushed her own shirt off and laid her back on his desk, shoving parchment, quills, books, and her wand off the desk and onto the floor. She lay there on the desk, looking up at him with dark eyes in just her bra and skirt. He was sure it was the most erotic thing he had ever seen.

Tom placed a hand on her breast and she closed her eyes and arched up into his touch, he rolled the nipple between his forefinger and his thumb and she keened. Tom leaned over her and placed an open mouthed kiss over the other nipple and received a moan in response. His free hand he moved to her thigh and began a slow ascent up to her core. Her hands were roaming his back as he continued teasing her nipples, rolling the right one in his hand and sucking on the left one through her bra.

When he reached her center, he could feel how wet she was, he slid his fingers along her slit, over her knickers, and her hips bucked in response.

“So responsive, Hermione. I like it,” he purred, pulling up to look her in the eyes again.

* * *

Hermione had no idea how she got to be where she was. Tom Riddle had her lying on his desk, her shirt was off and he was exploring underneath her skirt. At the moment, she didn’t much care how she ended up here, she just didn’t want him to stop. She had, had sex before, but none of her previous partners made her feel like she did now. She felt like she was on fire. She could hear her blood pounding in her ears and she was breathless. She couldn’t figure out if this was because of the charms Tom had put on the book that brought her back in time, or if it was because her hormones were running rampant.

Tom kissed his way down down her torso, unzipping her skirt as he went. She leaned up on her elbows and unhooked her bra, tossing it away to free her breasts as he lifted her hips to slide her skirt down. She was reclined on the desk in just her lacy green boy short knickers.

He ran a finger over one of her bare nipples and she couldn’t stop herself from leaning into the touch, whimpering. He began to roll it, tormenting her. It felt like an invisible string was tied from her nipples to her clit, as he rubbed her nipple just so, she felt an answering twinge at her clit, soaking her knickers even more.

“Miss Granger, your choice in undergarments suggests you like Slytherin’s. Didn’t your tie indicate you are a Gryffindor?” he teased.

Hermione could feel her blush darken, she looked away and murmured, “I bought them with an old boyfriend in mind.”

He seized her chin and turned her face to meet him. “You are mine now. I think this set will need to go, don’t you?”

Hermione nodded, her eyes wide. His authority was such a turn on, she didn’t think she would have been turned on by being bossed in the bedroom, but that was not the case.

He summoned his wand wordlessly and cast an  _ Incendio _ at her bra that was on the floor, then he cast a very light  _ Diffindo _ at her knickers, and pulled them off. She was lying on his desk, completely nude. It felt naughty. It felt delightful.

“Turnabout is fair play, Tom,” she cooed at him with a smirk.  She lifted her legs, and pushed his pyjama pants and boxers down in one go with her toes. His erection sprung free. He was larger than she expected and felt herself get even wetter at the sight of him.  _ I must be ovulating _ , Hermione thought dimly.

He breathed in deep and leered at her, running his hands down her sides, he grasped her behind both thighs and pushed them up and out, sliding his cock into her at the same time. She hissed at the feel of him stretching her. It felt better than it should have.

“Gods, you’re so tight… so wet… fuck,” he mumbled giving tiny little thrusts. Each thrust hit that spot, the one that made her see stars.

He grabbed her ankles and propped them up on his shoulders, as he slowly, so slowly pulled out and pushed back in, holding the back of her thighs so she was bent almost in half. Her hips bucked at the contact, and she tried to move closer, get him to move faster. Her hands gripped the edge of the desk near her hips, using her arms for leverage. She was breathing heavily now, her breath coming in short bursts. A low moaning sound was in her ears, it took a moment before Hermione realized it was coming from her.

“Patience, Hermione. I’ll get you there, don’t fear,” he rasped as he pulled out again. He hovered for a moment, with just the head inside her, she felt empty. He gripped her hips and slammed inside of her, causing her to cry out and arch her back off of the desk.

“Fuck!” he cried out. He dropped her ankles from his shoulders and she wrapped her legs around his waist, he leaned down and picked her up off of the desk. She wrapped her arms around his neck and began planting kisses down his neck.

“Fuck me,” she groaned in his ear as he set her gently on the bed.

“Right into the mattress, is my plan, princess” he panted setting a tempo.

She met him thrust for thrust, her hands pulling him closer, gripping his back with her nails. Her legs still wrapped around him, she pushed her heels into his arse. He half fell on top of her, holding himself up by his forearms and leaning his head down into the crook of her neck. She could feel him planting sloppy kisses on her neck and shoulder. He bit her and she sobbed as the sensation went right to her clit, pushing her higher.

“Merlin, so close Tom,” she begged.

He reached a hand down and began circling her clit, she jolted at the contact and keened, “Tom!”

“Come, come now!” he cried out, and she did. She felt the string that had been pulled taut and tightening all the while spring loose as wave after wave of pleasure coursed through her body. Her orgasm brought on his.

“Fuck, gods, Hermione,” he grunted as he came. She could feel him pulsing inside her and she squeezed her inner muscles to hold him tight. He collapsed on top of her, both of their bodies slick with sweat.

He lifted his head and looked at her, “That was bloody amazing.”

He seemed to be in awe of how amazing that had been. She nodded and offered a small smile.

“It was,” she agreed, running her hands down his back and planting a kiss on his shoulder. He hissed as she hit a spot she had clawed open, she leaned forward and looked at his back, it was peppered with half moons from her nails, and short streaks where she had dug in.

“Oh, Tom! I’m so sorry -”

“It’s fine. I liked it,” he told her, kissing her deeply. She returned the kiss as he slid out of her, he summoned his wand and doused the candles, then pulled the quilt over them both, spooning her.

“Tom,” she whispered.

“Shhh, let me sleep,” he said holding her tighter and throwing a leg over hers, effectively blocking her way out of the bed.

She decided to just close her eyes for a moment, when she woke it was morning.

* * *

Tom woke slowly the following morning, the dawn sun was shining through his window and he was warm. Warmer than he normally was. When he cracked one eye open, he found out why. The witch, Hermione, who had appeared in his room last night, was snuggled up next to him. He smirked remembering the night before. Tom decided that he would do what he could to ensure the witch would want to stay with him and not look for a way back to the future.

He summoned his wand and pointed it at Hermione’s forehead, whispering, “Melior imperium.” Tom watched as the magic sank into her head and he could feel his connection to her strengthen. It was the same curse he had put in the book, an improved  _ Imperius.  _ Instead of turning its victims into mindless zombies, this version allowed greater control by the victim, but gave Tom deeper control of their subconscious.

He slowly extricated himself from her embrace, giving her a soft kiss on her forehead. He nibbled and licked his way down her body, spending a few moments at each breast. Her breathing hadn’t changed, but her nipples responded to his touch.

When he reached her core, he ran a finger through her folds and slid it inside her, spreading her wetness up, he circled her clit and her hips lifted from the bed in response. He heard her gasp, he leaned down and licked her. This time her hips bucked, she groaned, and reached a hand down to his head. Raking her fingers through his hair, and holding him in place. He chuckled to himself as he set to work.

* * *

Hermione woke fully with Tom’s head between her legs. He was licking, and finger fucking her. She was on the edge of her orgasm when he pulled back. She couldn’t stop the whine that escaped her.

“Ah, patience, Hermione,” Tom said as he licked his way up her stomach and to her breasts. He settled in first at one breast, licking, sucking, and nipping, while he rolled the other nipple with his fingers. Then he switched his attentions. Each lick, suck, nip, and roll was like a shot of fire down Hermione’s nerves directly to her clit. He was pushing her higher and higher, her body was covered in a sheen of sweat and she was panting.

“Gods, please, Tom,” she rasped over and over again. She reached a hand down to touch herself and he slapped it away.

“Don’t make me tie you up,” he smirked at her. She keened in response. The idea of being tied up made her flush deeper with pleasure and a gush of fluid drip down her thighs.

“Oh, would you like to be tied up? We can try that someday, princess,” Tom cooed at her.

He leaned down and brushed her lips, giving her a slow, languorous kisses, slowing the tempo. When her breathing evened out again he pulled back and went back to her pussy, giving it equally long, slow, lazy laps. Driving Hermione wild.

“Tom, please,” she begged.

“What do you want? I’m afraid you’ll have to tell me,” he purred at her, his fingers still inside her, he curled them and hit her g-spot.

“I want to come, I want you to fuck me!” She cried out, arching her back into the thrusts from his fingers.

“Your wish is my command,” he husked. He removed his hand from her quim and licked his fingers. He laid down next to her and rolled her on top of him, straddling his lap.

“Ride me, witch,” he growled, gripping her hips.

Hermione lifted her hips and sank slowly down onto his engorged cock. Feeling him fill her was magnificent. She placed her hands on his chest to balance herself and arched her back. Tom moved one of his hands from her hip to her breast, rolling a nipple.

“Gods, your cunt is so fucking tight,” Tom ground out through clenched teeth.

Hermione took that as her signal to move. She lifted her hips and slid back down, once she was down she circled her hips, grinding into him. Tom lifted his own hips to meet her, driving himself even deeper inside of her. As he hit her cervix, Hermione cried out, it was deliciously painful and she wanted more. She set a gruelingly measured pace, each time she slid all the way down, she did one of those little hip circles, grinding him deeper into her.

Tom was soon panting, and he sat up, sweeping Hermione’s legs behind him. This position gave him better leverage to push up into her. Soon Hermione’s mewls turned to howls as she came around him. Tom thrust a few more times before he too came with a shout.

“Merlin, Tom, if you keep shagging me like that, I’m staying forever,” Hermione whispered as she clung to him in her post-orgasmic bliss.

Tom’s smirk turned triumphant and his eyes flashed red.

Fin.

  
  
  
  



End file.
